Step Forward
by macai1
Summary: Darkfic. Basically just shows a message. Make of it what you will.


Title: Step Forward  
  
Author: Macai macai@insightbb.com  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairing: None really.  
  
Genre: Deathfic. Darkfic. =VERY NOT HAPPY.  
  
Feedback: I'd love it thanks.  
  
A/N: I'm thinking of transforming this into a different fic.  
  
Basically just shows a message; Make of it what you will.  
  
Every day we always look up to the sky and wonder what the future is. The clouds roll by in a distant murmur of hope, and we all get latched on and grasp at air. I am the same. I held onto nothing just like everyone else, believed there was a way it would all work out. We were wrong. You were wrong. I was wrong. It's time to stop looking to the stars and come back down to Earth. We have a future. No matter how it will be spent, there will be a future. The world can't very well blow up. So, how are we going to spend said future? Stand Strong, and Step Forward Bravely.  
"Avada Kedavra!" Green light blasts by near me, and I can hear someone's last shriek of horror before the life is sucked from their body. But, I cannot stop to see who it was. I have to end this. Somehow, I have to end this. It's gone on for so many years. My life is plagued with it. We're all held in Hogwarts and the defenses are breaking. Dumbledore is dead. Sirius is dead. Remus, Severus, Minerva, and Sybil; Bill, Fred, Charlie, Ron, Ginny, and Arthur Weasley are dead. Hermione has been dead for years. It's my time soon; I know I can't last much longer. The name Harry Potter rarely brings much aid these days, it only brings fear. My name brings fear, because wherever I am, Voldemort is.  
My life is a living hell. Both forces are dwindling. Over half of the wizarding race is gone. The entire Malfoy name died by my hand during a Death eater raid. That was one of our... my greatest victories, and greatest losses. That's when I lost Ron and Ginny. I'm not so sure of my age right now, I'm probably nearing thirty. So many years spent in the dank dungeons, protecting the lasting students with Severus and Minerva. Now I can't even count my years with them anymore.  
Can I last much longer? Our race is falling. We are falling. I am failing. I've been using the Unforgivables since I graduated, and no one is in any attitude to stop me, as they're using them, too. I raise my wand and fire the same curse that killed my parents, taking out a woman with shiny blond hair. You'd think killing women would be hard, and it was, at first. Not anymore, the only thing that's hard anymore is living.  
George and Molly Weasley have taken up helping Poppy in the infirmary. They say they just can't watch people they love die on the open battle anymore. They aren't cowards, I feel the same way. Except, I don't love anymore, so I stay and kill.  
There are only two Seventh years still alive. Melanie Cratworth and Sarah Jenson. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, respectively. Their parents are dead, their friends are dead, and they are flinging the killing curse at every black-robed person they see. There are a few students from random years. I hid a Gryffindor First Year in a pile of laundry in a cupboard when I realized our forces had broken, and there were Death eaters in the castle. He was the only one left. I wonder if he's alive... that was days ago. Or was it weeks? Perhaps only hours? It feels like a decade.  
I watched Neville go to his death against Wormtail, who is also dead now by my hand. Seamus and Dean were killed in a raid last week. The Patil twins are still alive, or they were a few hours ago. They're out on the front lines, grabbing back the injured and throwing curses at any second they can manage it.  
There are so few of us left, but there are so few of them left. Who will hold out in the end? The ones with the least remorse. The least mercy. The ones who kill more. Isn't it sad? That we were already defeated before the battle had truly begun? When I killed my first Death eater, committed my first murder, that is when I lost.  
Molly asked me what I would do if I killed Voldemort. I thought maybe I'd kill myself. But, no. If I do that, then I am no better than they, snatching the easy way out and leaving those who are strong to try and rebuild this world.  
You see, I'm not really alive anymore, anyway. I'm just sitting here in purgatory, waiting for my time to come when they shove me into hell.  
But, if hell is my future, as a future I do have, I shall accept it. And I will Step Forward and await my punishment. We've been going about this war all wrong. "Fight for what you believe in," they say. Well, Dumbledore, look how many people those six words killed. Hundreds, Thousands... Hundreds of Thousands? How many, I can't count that high.  
Terry Boot is calling something to me, something about it being over. What being over? Nothing's ever over. He's smiling. I don't think I can even remember smiling. Wait, there was that one time Hermione ended up with all that flour on her head... that made me smile. She made me smile.  
He's shaking my hand now. What the hell? Has he finally cracked? I'm not surprised, but I don't see what he's congratulating me for. What? You say I killed Voldemort? Preposterous, where is he?  
"Over there..." Terry says pointing blankly to the ground in front of me. He's looking at me confused. I feel like my life is a horror book.  
"Boot," I tell him quietly. "This will never be over. There will always be Death eaters. We will always be fighting." You see, even I couldn't tell Voldemort from any others when I killed him. The dead are the dead, whatever side they're on.  
Is there any other way? If I'd known this would be the future, would I have changed it?  
The youngest Gryffindor falls out of the cupboard.  
Stand Strong, and Step Forward Bravely. 


End file.
